11:55 PM

It was a Saturday. I remember because I had been spending the better part of the morning watching The Kennedy Center Honors of years past on my laptop. I really wanted to see Heart cover Led Zeppelin and that of course led me on and on into other performances and so there I was, on the couch with nothing but a t-shirt and a blanket when I became dispensable.

That sounds dramatic.

An afterthought? A second glance? Never a priority, was I? I honestly felt that I was on several occasions but currently with mascara coated in the corners of my eyes and my glasses falling off of my nose I couldn't even form a tear. I don't know if it was the shock or if it was the relief. I didn't have to be that anymore. I was able to breath. Holding your breath is hard, you know, especially when forces on either side of you are debating what your heart should feel.

The heart sucks, I'll be the one to say it. I can clearly explain my love for cold pizza in the morning but I can't tell my heart where to submerge it's feelings. It does that all on it's own and it's a little screwed up if you ask me. I love him, make him love me. That's a direct command there heart, you should go forth and give me my wish, but no. No instead you throw my feelings every which way and leave it up to my brain to discover I can be a bad judge of character on a lot of occasions.

The heart wants what the heart wants and the head is there to be the logic, but who needs logic when it comes to feelings? Those two don't go together, there isn't any teamwork. I sometimes sense they're at war with one another to see who can break you the fastest.

That's what happens when you give your heart away. I was selfless and thought that maybe I could make a difference. I could struggle and support and be the rock that was needed and damn, I was good at it. I have that down,to a science and no one can tell me differently. I'm sorry but I am an emotional person and I feel more than I think a lot of people feel and in truth, it just gets me spit upon. I get looks, the occasional single lettered text message you know is just to appease you and get you to stop talking. I have an archived file somewhere of all of those "K's" I've received. I save everything, memories included and I feel that's important. I assume someone would be proud of that and appreciative of that but maybe I'm just falling in love with the wrong people.

There it is. The answer to my question that's been on my mind ever since the night before my decision was final (and possibly before). I crave and leap and take risks and I'm proud of that to some extent but other days I would much rather just curl up with no pants on and enjoy the rain pouring outside. I will probably hold my coffee cup with two hands, I know that can be bothersome. There's a handle for a reason, but it just tastes better if I'm hovering over it letting it fog up my glasses first.

Yes, those glasses, the ones that fall off the end of my nose. Never order online, you'll be kicking yourself every time you have to slide them back up to meet your eye line.

That Saturday was not the ending. It was actually the beginning.

I hate when people say 'a new chapter' but they're right. It's already begun and has been going on longer than should be admitted. It's easy to remove yourself when you're second or third or fourth and not valued for what you do. It doesn't mean I don't make mistakes. I'm far from perfect, I cry at everything and almost never clean my hair out of the sink. I let milk expire and don't exercise regularly. I just happen to know the things I'm good at and taking care of people is one of them.

I nurture, it's in my blood.

I guess in some cases you can be the nurturer and also be the friend and the support and still, at the end of the day, you can be run over by a metaphoric truck and it's all it takes to not wipe the tire tread off of your thigh because those scars will go away and I won't feel like the discarded, second string. One day I'll be the first pick and have appreciation shown and I just want to be sure that I recognize that instead of blowing it off my shoulder like every word that left my mouth that didn't revolve around something others found important. I'm going to lay on my couch, without pants and my double-fisted coffee and watch stupid videos and not give a damn or worry it's going to make someone value me less.

My voice? My voice is here.

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sup fool.